


Newton's Third Law

by bossy (orphan_account)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Angst, Edward makes questionable choices, Experimental Style, Gen, M/M, Ocean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2462753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bossy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Newton's Third Law

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published 12/30/06 on LiveJournal.
> 
> The first section is a run-on sentence, but after you get past that, it's a normal fic. Inspired by the song "Happy Home" by Garbage, which you should look up on youtube right now.
> 
> I'm a survivor and I have the right to write about incest.

I. Action

“Al,” Al with wide blue-grey eyes, Al in the quiver of his lips as he stares, unmoving, Al in the salty wind wafting through the room, mixing with the scent of his skin and the sound of his voice as he stutters, but Ed can’t wrap his brain around the words (just the tone, soft and flowing and wondrous, half-whispered) and Al steps forward, the curve of his nose that had been lost to flat metal – when they were children Ed had teased him about that nose, long green grass and the hoot of the train, chugging on and on in a beautiful rhythm that they had thought unstoppable but that had braked suddenly with an overwhelming crash and left even the frogs and crickets silent, even the stars dark – and in the midst of it all Alphonse had reached out his hand and _nothing can take him from me too, nothing_ , but Edward hadn’t been able to clasp that hand in his own and it stands before him now, the same hand, and he can’t, won’t, let Al down now and so he reaches out, intertwines their fingers, Al, Al making a choked sound in the back of his throat, arms around his back and neck and warm breath in his ear, and he’d hold on for the rest of his life before letting go now. 

 

II. Reaction

There is a strand of hair nestled in the small of his ear; Alphonse reaches out with shaking, unsure fingers and slips it back (staring at his hand still, not leather but skin). Edward stands up and opens the window – some of the grey-blue paint chips off and falls to the windowpane. Edward brushes the rest of it off his hands – it’s lead paint, and it makes his skin itch – and follows Al’s gaze out the window: a lonesome, dirty, white-blue boat, rocking back and forth. Standing aboard it is a tall, unshaven man with distrusting eyes, taking a drag on his cigarette and then turning his face and casting his eyes on Edward, who meets his gaze for a second and then turns back to Al.

Al’s eyes are wide and his mouth half-open. He has stood up and is trailing his index finger along the blood on the wall. There is a sudden lurch and Al falls backward onto the floor with a surprised gasp.

“Oh! That hurt.” And then he looks up again, still sprawled on the floor with his left palm spread across the wooden floor, taking most of his weight. “Are we on a boat?”

Ed nods, _near Aquroya. I killed them for you._

There is a shard of the Stone left, in the corner, light glinting off part of it and leaving the rest dark and sharp and crimson; and Edward can see Al’s eyes flicker to it for the first time. They come back to meet his, and Alphonse’s lips turn down and he inches backward. “Brother?”

“Al, don’t look at me like that. It was my only choice.” He fights to keep his voice calm.

Al stands up, forcefully, and he reaches out and grabs onto the windowsill as the boat sways again. “People were killed for that!”

Ed looks down; he can’t stand the betrayal in his brother’s eyes. “Al, I - I just wanted –”

“Stop it!” Al shouts, his voice higher and his eyes tearing. “I’m not worth that!”

“I just wanted you and you’re worth everything, Al.”

Edward can see Al’s right hand, bunched into a fist. His next words are whispers and their meaning escapes him until a few seconds after Al has spoken – “You’re not my brother. You’re not the brother I remember.”

“Al –!”

“My brother wouldn’t do something like this – my brother was smarter than that. You’re somebody else.”

Al turns away as Ed steps forward, and his last whispers are hardly audible. “And to think I thought I loved you.”

 

III. Equal

He doesn’t move from the corner (even when Edward cleans up the bloody arrays and hides the Stone, and doesn’t say anything more), curled up in the fetal position with his eyes open – sad, lonely eyes, and he bites his lower lip and shrinks back against the wall when Edward enters the room.

“Hey,” Ed says, and for a second Al doesn’t move. “Are you hungry?” The egg he is carrying is overcooked, and resembles more a homunculus than an egg – Alphonse deserves better than this, but it’s the best he could do.

Alphonse looks up. “I don’t want to be alive.”

“What? Al, you –” Edward begins, but Alphonse cuts him off quietly, staring down at the wooden floor. His entire body is shadowed, the room already dark from the endless blue-grey skies outside.

“I don’t want to steal other people’s lives, to destroy them and use them for keeping myself alive. I’m not worth that.”

He looks up again, and Edward can see the shadows beneath his eyes, the worry that is ironed into his skin. Fragile, as if he would shatter into a million irregular pieces when touched (a piece for every life taken, for every piece of the Stone used to save him, to keep him alive, to destroy him).

“Al, I had to,” he repeats, crouching down in front of his brother, who looks away (and his hand twitches away from him, flinches, as if he would like to be anywhere but here). “I had to; it was the only way. I needed you.”

Alphonse looks up, and Edward can see the ocean reflected in his eyes, countless waves churning and longing for freedom.

 

IV. Opposite

They are engulfed by stars – stars reaching towards them from the sky, the water, everything else black and open. There are goosebumps on Edward’s arm and he goes back inside to get his red sweater, transformed to a deep grey from the night’s lack of color.

Alphonse is still standing on the deck when he returns, holding on to the railing and watching life float by them. 

“If all the land was gone, brother,” Alphonse says, slowly, “would we ever know? If it had disappeared off the horizon forever and left us here alone?”

Edward doesn’t answer; he reaches into his pocket and takes out the Stone. It captures the light and for a minute seems to be made of stars – almost liquid, and Edward wishes it would melt and drain through his fingers, disappear forever.

He stands on tip-toes and moves his arm back, casts the stone out into the sea.

“I shouldn’t have done that, Al – I shouldn’t have created the Stone for you.” Edward begins after a while, and Alphonse lets go of the railing and takes Ed’s hand in his own.

“I just... didn’t know what I would do without you,” he continues.

“Shh,” Al says, with a slight smile, and he leans down and kisses Edward’s cheek. There is a certain peace here that sinks down on them heavily (that gives Edward the illusion that nothing has ever been wrong, that nothing will ever be wrong) and he closes his eyes without knowing that they are closed and for a second wonders if he is dreaming his brother’s lips upon his, if when he opens them again Alphonse will still be indoors, sitting in the corner.

But Alphonse’s hand is warm in his own, and he can hear the other boy breathing, a sound that overwhelms him, that aligns with the rhythm of the waves. Al is looking at him when he does open his eyes, is pulled back into the world of endless stars, and he doesn’t protest when Alphonse climbs over the railing and looks out at the sea.

His figure is slim and black against the ocean – strong, here, instead of the way he shook in the corner, the way he tried to disappear. He turns back to Edward and smiles, whispers something under his breath that doesn’t need to be said and that Edward understands all the same.

Edward stays outside long after he is gone, until the sky is such a deep black that he can barely remember what is him and what is the ocean, the sky.

“Now it’s okay – I had you, once, and that’s all that matters.”


End file.
